Broken
by Satori
Summary: But that would spoil it! Post-war, but like just after it. Harry is left to contemplate what's left of his life (sort of). Please review!


((Hey all! I'm really sorry it's been a while. This one's called Broken after the song by Amy Lee and Seether from the Punisher. It's like...right right after the war.))  
  
Harry sagged against the chains that held him to the wall in defeat. He didn't know how long he'd been tied up, but it felt like years. Despite his dejected pose, his ears stayed alert for any noise from the hallway. No footsteps echoed down the cramped stone halls and Harry let himself relax, just a little. As long as no light bobbed in the hallway and he heard no footsteps, he was safe. He always heard them coming before he saw them and the myriad tools they brought with them each time. Harry had long ago discovered that the anticipation of the pain to come was almost as bad as the pain itself, and the numbing relief it brought him as he disappeared into a new space he'd found in himself, where he was safe and it was dark and quiet.  
  
Luckily, they weren't coming back today, if it really was day. In his dark cell, Harry had no way of knowing the time of day. Every emotion or thought in his life had disappeared to be replaced by two feelings, pain, and despair. Harry knew there was no way anyone could rescue him, not after so long. The hope of being saved had disappeared on probably the first day he'd woken up in this dank place and found himself chained to a wall.  
  
That day...Harry hung his head as the memories returned to him, burning his face with shame and bitter self-hatred. That day, he'd screamed himself hoarse as they tortured him, asking him the same questions over and over until they repeated in his head long after the people had left. Then, the bolt on his door slid once again to admit only one person. The person who'd haunted his waking nightmares, smirking at him from beneath long blond hair. Draco wore the traditional black robes of the Death Eaters but had removed the mask so that Harry could identify him. Not that it had been necessary. Harry had known him by the way he walked, the incline of his head, the way he held his hands; and Harry had begged. In the shameful yet shameless way of prisoners, he'd implored his former lover to free him from the bonds. He'd cried, he'd screamed, he'd begged until he was hoarse once again, yet Draco had stood there, never answering him, merely watching him, with that irritating smirk and disgust in his eyes.  
  
Harry had finally fallen silent, and that was when Draco spoke, stalking up to him calmly. The blond forced the other boy to look at him and said, "You want me to free you, Potter?"  
  
Harry had winced at the surname; they'd stopped calling each other by last names at the beginning of their seventh year at Hogwarts, but Draco wasn't done. "What makes you think I care anything for you? Or that I ever did? You are nothing to me, nothing but a convenient way to prove myself to the Dark Lord. Who do you think arranged all this? And the torturers, weren't they a brilliant touch? I'm sure Lord Voldemort appreciated that, very much. But don't worry, they'll come back. I'm sure you and they will have a...special relationship, from now on."  
  
Harry had stared at Draco in horror as the blond boy had released his chin and laughed. Then suddenly, quick as a cat, Harry was pinned against the wall and Draco's face was inches away from his. "My, aren't we the pretty prize, Potter? I must admit, the show you put on was quite entertaining." When Harry had tried to look away from those ridiculing eyes, Draco had moved one hand from Harry's shoulder to hold his chin again, then ran a thumb over the boy's lips, slowly, sensuously.  
  
"I think I might even miss the diversion you provided me with last year." Draco had smirked again as Harry flushed and averted his eyes. "What, are we ashamed now?" Draco tsked and moved away, smoothing his robes. "Well, no matter. We've had an interesting chat, but I really must depart. Things to do, you know. Enjoy the solitude, Potter." With that, Draco had swept out of the chamber and the door slammed behind him.  
  
Up until that point, Harry had tried to deny that what Draco was saying was really true. Realization slammed into his gut like a kick and he doubled over, face scrunched up as he tried not to cry again. That day, Harry pushed the tears down so far, he didn't see them for weeks.  
  
The black-haired boy returned to the present with a jolt as he heard a commotion outside his door, closely followed by several successive explosions and flashes of green light. He shivered as he recalled the horrid fluorescent color of the death curse. The door shook on its hinges as something immensely strong rammed against it. Twice more, a thudding came from the other side of the door until it cracked and broke in half, sending a tall red-haired thing flying into the room, closely followed by a somewhat shorter figure. The red-haired thing that Harry soon recognized as a man, straightened and checked his wand. Finding it whole, he turned to the other figure and asked a few questions, which were answered in a feminine voice.  
  
Harry must have made a rattling sound as he gaped at them, for they both turned in his direction, wands instantly ready, then gaped back.  
  
"H...Harry??" The woman exclaimed in shock, and Harry recognized her as Hermione, one of his best friends. His pain-numbed mind worked slowly; if Hermione was here that meant the red-head must be...  
  
"Ron?" Harry whispered, finding he could hardly speak that loudly. Hermione glanced at Ron quickly, and then burst into tears. Ron hurried to her, hugging and shushing her.  
  
"Don't worry, 'Mione. See, he's alive. He's fine...don't worry. We'll get him out."  
  
Hermione nodded dumbly and wiped away her tears. She straightened and walked over to Harry briskly, wand ready.  
  
"Right. We'd better get these off him." She spoke over her shoulder to Ron, who was following her, and indicated the chains that held Harry's arms above his head. She spoke a quick unlocking charm, but the chains didn't budge. Frowning, Hermione tried again with a series of more complex charms, yet the chains didn't clink open.  
  
Puzzled, she reached forward to touch one, and then stiffened suddenly as a brilliant flash of light passed from the chains to her. When the light disappeared, Hermione was slumped on the ground, not moving.  
  
"Hermione!" Ron and Harry cried as one, and Ron ran to her side, picking her up gingerly.  
  
"Oh no...'Mione, please...please don't be dead. Please, Hermione!" Ron's panicked whispering reached Harry's ears as tears flowed down the redhead's freckled face. Yet, Hermione didn't stir.  
  
"No...no no no no no!" Harry couldn't stop the scream as he realized that it had been him who killed the gentle, brilliant girl who had stood by him for seven years.  
  
"Harry! Stop! She's dead..." Ron's voice sounded wooden as he stood, leaving Hermione's broken body on the floor. "We have to get out of here, no matter what."  
  
Another flash of light, green this time blasted Ron in the back as he came toward Harry. Ron too fell to the ground in a crumpled heap at Harry's feet.  
  
"Ron? No...Ron get up! Please! You have to get up!" Harry struggled against his chains in a vain attempt to get to his two best friends, who he refused to believe were truly dead.  
  
The two bodies on the floor glittered for a moment, then fizzled out of existence, leaving nothing behind to mark where they had lain seconds before. The door opened quietly, completely whole, to let Draco in again, a huge smirk on his face.  
  
"Did you like that, Potter? A special display just for you."  
  
Harry gaped, the tears still streaming down his pale cheeks. "You...they aren't dead?"  
  
Draco sighed, "No, they are quite dead. But that was just an illusion. Too bad, you never got to say goodbye to them before you killed them. Or don't you remember that part?"  
  
Harry shook his head, refusing to believe what the blond was saying. "I...I would never kill them. No matter what you did to me!"  
  
"Why Potter, I'm disappointed in your lack of confidence in my skills. Believe me, you killed them. Sad, I suppose, but I must congratulate you; your creative curses definitely prolonged their death considerably. If you weren't such a good little boy, I might offer you freedom in exchange for your loyalty to the Dark Lord. Very inventive display, truly."  
  
Harry could do nothing but stare. He...he couldn't have. Draco didn't mean this, any of it. How could any of this have happened? Why couldn't he remember anything?? Everything was black and full of screaming and pain. His screams? Or theirs? Harry couldn't stand it any more. He closed his eyes and wished to die, over and over, repeating the phrase in his head like a chant, "I want to die, please kill me, I want to die." He couldn't live knowing that he had killed his best friends. The tears flowed all over again, burning his eyes as they fell to the floor, like acid.  
  
Draco smirked watching Harry. "Now now, Potter, did you really think we would just let you die? No, I think not. You're here to stay for a long...long time." 


End file.
